


When I Wake Up, the Dream Isn't Done

by Lumieerie



Category: Prisoner - Megan Derr
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dieter is a Disney Prince and he hates it, Dreams, Established Relationship, Flower Symbolism, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Sleeping Beauty AU, Starring Kalan Esta and Matti but not enough to give them each their own specific tag, True Love's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27831961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumieerie/pseuds/Lumieerie
Summary: Who in their right mind is willing to kiss Beraht awake let alone while he’s sleeping?The answer is Dieter himself, but he plans to die before he admits that out loud.
Relationships: Dieter von Adolwulf/Beraht
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9





	When I Wake Up, the Dream Isn't Done

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KATE!! I hope you have a good day and I hope you enjoy this little ficlet I threw together for you. I love these two idiots.

“You didn’t think to notify me sooner!” Dieter’s fist slams into the table, eyes blown wide with frustration. He does not care about the whimper Kalan responds with and takes satisfaction in watching the man shrink. “I was gone for a month,” he states, voice dipping low. “One month and I come back and that bastard is under a _spell?_ ” He emphasizes the last word, incredulous. 

Magic should not exist in Illussor, not anymore since Beraht fulfilled his duty as the Breaker. So unless someone not from the kingdom snuck in and cast the spell on Beraht, it should not be possible. The spell in question lulls its victim into a deep slumber, never to waken unless given true love's kiss. Tits of the Winter Princess, that is the most cliche thing Dieter’s ever heard. Who in their right mind is willing to kiss Beraht awake let alone while he’s sleeping? 

The answer is Dieter himself, but he plans to die before he admits that out loud. 

“There’s more,” Kalan starts. He shoots out of his seat quickly and backs up behind his chair as if it will shield him from Dieter’s further wrath. When he is sure Dieter won’t strike out, he clears his throat and pretends as if he wasn’t just scared out of his wits. “The wing where you two room is-” he pauses and purses his lips. “-how should I put it? No longer attached to the castle.”

Dieter blinks. He stares at Kalan as if he’s grown a second head and blinks for a second time. Then a third. It becomes a solid minute of comical silence and blinking, the scene completely out of Dieter’s usual temperamental character, and Kalan has a strong desire to defenestrate himself. “Bullshit,” Dieter finally settles on. “I had not noticed anything out of the ordinary when I arrived.”

Kalan waves his hand in the air as if to say ‘semantics,’ before he shrugs. “I got nothing,” he says. “Esta and Matti have spent weeks in the library trying to find out what the cause is, but they have only bread crumbs. Iah and Sol traveled out to Salhara a few days ago so here’s hoping they have a solution.” 

“I thought the solution was true love’s kiss?” Dieter rolls his eyes even as he asks the question. 

“Well we would have to find his true love then, wouldn’t we?” Kalan tips his head to the side. For someone afraid for his life, he has the balls to say that to Dieter’s face. 

The idea that anyone would love Beraht is sickening. A poisonous sensation bubbles up inside Dieter’s stomach and he clenches his fist. His fingernails dig into his skin leaving a throbbing pain in their wake. He wants to punch something suddenly, the thought of Beraht and someone else whirling around in his head like a parasite picking its host. Disgusting. 

Shaking his head, Dieter forces the thought away. For a moment he contemplates just finding a corner to sleep in and ignoring this fantastical problem Kalan has laid on him, but then Beraht comes back in his mind like a curse. Stupid Salharan, always making things about him and expecting Dieter to come save him. Stupid Dieter for falling for it every time. “We’ll force him awake,” he decides. “Take me to this stars forsaken de-attached wing.” 

Kalan lights up like a fire in the middle of the night, eyes shining as if he was waiting for Dieter to agree to this absurd task. He runs a hand through his dark hair and gestures to the door. “Knights in shining armor first.” He laughs warmly, the tease evident in his voice.

Unfortunately, because Dieter was made to care about Beraht against his will, he decides he will kill Kalan later. Keep him alive long enough to let Esta yell at him first, and then he will drive his sword through the damn idiot’s heart. Assuming that the wing was still at least in the place it was before Dieter left, he heads that way. 

There have been no changes to Esta and Matthias’ castle since the war ended and Dieter was thankful for that. While he has an excellent sense of direction, he finds the halls and corridors of the castle to be tedious and still, to this day, refuses to explore unnecessary areas. If Beraht and Sol had it in them to traverse and learn the grounds that way, then Dieter was perfectly fine to stew over blueprints and floor plans instead. It was much easier, in his opinion. 

He leads the way, ignoring the noises Kalan seems to emit every few minutes and turns a corner. Immediately he is met with an unsightly attraction of a hole in the wall with a tower in place of where the west wing should have been. It is as if the building has been cleanly cut, no rubble or destruction immediately making itself known, and he can see a space of the outside stretching out before the tower’s entrance. Vines reach out from the ground, sticking to the stony structure acting as a barricade so no one can enter. 

“Tits of the Winter Princess what is going on here,” he grumbles under his breath. None of this makes sense.

“You can say that again,” Kalan says. He pats Dieter’s arm before he points to where Esta and Matthias are standing in front of the tower, sour looks on their faces and books littering the grass behind them. He calls out to them.

Esta meets them half away, her face a picture of distress. “I’m afraid you’ve returned at the worst time. Matti and I were just about to enter when suddenly those vines sprung up and blocked the door!” A second later she frowns and looks at Dieter. “I’m sorry,” she says. 

“Have you tried cutting the vines?” Dieter’s hand finds the hilt of his sword automatically, his fingers fitting around it. He does not wait for an answer before he is hurrying over to Matthias’ side and aiming at the door. 

Matthias stops him with a shake of his head. “No weapons worked. We think it’s just as magical as the-” 

Dieter’s sword slices through the vines like they are paper. He turns his gaze on Matthias and arches an eyebrow. “You were saying?” Matthias doesn’t reply. Dieter rolls his eyes. This is starting to feel like an elaborate set up to fuck with him. The Autumn Prince will forgive him if he puts all of them in the ground before their time comes. He brushes the vines out of the way and kicks open the door, ignoring Esta as she calls out his name. 

The door slams shut behind him, but Dieter cares more for the bright yellow rose petals covering the floor. He sees no tile or carpet- just yellow roses. He kneels down and picks one up, rubbing it between three of his fingers. It was as soft as if it just finished blooming. It is almost silky and if he rubbed hard enough, the petal would rip apart. 

Movement catches his attention and he looks up and his mouth falls open in awe. The only color that exists in that moment is gold as thousands of yellow petals float down from the ceiling. It’s like a race to see which petal can reach Dieter faster as they fall like a stop-motion whirlpool. The sight is strange but beautiful and almost as intoxicating as the Arcen that Salharans use. It is only now that Dieter wishes he had paid more attention in lessons on flower symbolism because as another petal lands in his hand, he thinks about how he would liken it to Beraht’s hair. 

He vaguely recalls what a blue rose symbolizes, remembering Esta comparing him to one because he was ‘mysterious,’ and that he ‘achieved the impossible.’ Whatever that means. There’s a third meaning, he’s sure of it as he trudged up the stairs toward the top of the tower. He loses himself to the thought, more and more yellow petals landing in his hair and attaching themselves to his clothing. He ignores it, not bothered in the slightest. 

The journey upward is long and boring and Dieter only passes the time by thinking about flowers and Beraht and wondering how the hell he got himself into this mess. One moment he was in Kria, carefully enlisting troops and giving them background checks and the next he was back in Illussor to find that the pain in his side was put to sleep. He was starting to wonder if he should call Beraht the Krian name for ‘trouble,’ rather than ‘bright.’ Though ‘trouble’ would make for a terrible sword name and Dieter was not looking to rename either his sword or his significant bother. 

By the time he finally reaches the top, Dieter is more colorful than he has ever been. No matter how he moves, the flowers stick to him like glue and he hates it. Earlier he thought the scene beautiful, now it is an annoying obstacle in his way and he cannot wait to get Beraht and leave this tragic, too-tall excuse for a tomb. He scoffs when he notices a paper sign on the door with a picture of two roses side by side; one yellow, one blue. The yellow rose has more meanings than he cares to read and instead focuses on three phrases. 

_Intense_ _emotion_ made sense, Dieter was feeling extremely annoyed with this whole situation. He could not wait to yell at Beraht for it. _Jealousy_ made no sense at all. Jealous of what- of who? Dieter has never been jealous in his life, not even when watching Beraht dance across the room with Esta or training across the battlegrounds with someone else. He laughs at that one, shaking his head. The last phrase makes Dieter snort. 

Under both blue and yellow flowers were two similar lines. _Undying_ _love_ and _love_ _at first sight_. 

He pushes the door open. 

Like the ground floor below, the floor in the room is hidden by yellow roses and in the middle stands a plain bed with a figure lying in it. Beraht lay like one would in a funeral casket, his fingers neatly linked together and his back straight. His hair cascades past his shoulders, longer than it was the last time Dieter saw him, and his eyes remain shut. He is the only thing in the room untouched by the barrage of yellow flora. He looks peaceful. 

Dieter’s lips twitch upward slightly. If only Beraht were like this when he was awake; but no, instead he was a tireless nuisance that Dieter could not get enough of. He observes Beraht for a second longer before he closes the door behind and moves to the side of the bed. He stands waiting as if something might happen if he waits long enough. Nothing happens. 

True love's kiss was supposed to wake him up according to Kalan. Dieter was not sure if he could trust Kalan as a source, but even with his distaste for Beraht, Dieter does not want him to sleep forever. He does not want to know who could be his true love, either. Beraht was his, after all. They have matching rings to prove it as well as a certificate promising that they were stuck with each other until death. The certificate was signed by Matthias himself. 

What even is true love? A kiss was a kiss and there should not be deeper meaning to it other than the goal to satisfy and assure your partner. Love is a mutual affection that transcends the normalcy of friendship and familiar love, Dieter knew that, but what is _true_ love? Dieter looks down at Beraht’s sleeping face and frowns. There is no doubt that he and Beraht love each other, but their love is like knives to the chest. Like stitches on a wound that keeps opening due to recklessness. They argue and fight and show their affection in violent ways; there are soft moments, however, but neither of them prefer sunshine over the rain. 

Kalan’s words should not mean much to him, he decides with a huff. The Scarlet Wolf does not do insecurity. He also does not drag things out longer than he needs to. That said, he closes his eyes and leans down, pressing his lips against Beraht’s. 

The next instance is abnormal. When Dieter opens his eyes, he is the one laying on the bed and Beraht is looming over him, blue rose petals hanging in his hair. He blinks, tired and unsure if he was put under a spell too or not. It can’t be. He grunts and reaches his hand out, a yawn escaping him when his palm touches Beraht’s cheek. 

“Took you long enough to wake up,” Beraht huffs out, leaning into Dieter’s touch. He stares down at Dieter, his yellow eyes darker than usual, full of worry. “Say something,” he mumbles after a second. 

Beraht looks like an avatar of the Spring Prince. He is beautiful and Dieter never wants to take his eyes off of him. He has wrinkle lines on his forehead and the blue of the rose petals brings out the bright yellow of his eyes, making him look younger than he actually is. If he had not just spoke, Dieter might have mistaken him for someone else. Nonsense, Dieter could never mistake Beraht for someone else. Only one person wears Dieter’s ring; only Beraht shares the name of his beloved sword. 

“They were yellow in my dream,” he groans. His head falls back onto his pillow but his eyes stay open to watch Beraht. “Blue suits you.” He almost grins when Beraht scowls at him. Almost. 

“Next time you fall into a deep sleep, I won’t wake you,” Beraht warns. “They told me someone drugged your tea again and you fainted from it. Then Kalan told me to bring you flowers-” He looks at Dieter with confusion about that, “-and then they fell on me when I got in the room. Though, I did take care of the bastard who drugged you.” 

_Ah_ , _that was it_. Some poor fellow had the audacity to drug Dieter. What a weird dream. “Make my tea for me from now on,” he commands boringly. 

“Make your own damn tea,” Beraht answers immediately. Then he smiles and caresses Dieter’s cheek too. “You were talking in your sleep.” 

Dieter narrows his eyes. He knew a tease was coming before he even got his question out. 

“What flowers mean love at first sight?” Beraht tilts his head, curiosity becoming him. “Blue roses? Did you dream of me giving you flowers, my wolf?” The taunt becomes a coo as Beraht wipes the petals off of his head and then he shifts so he can lay down in bed with Dieter. 

“No, I dreamt of kissing a hedgehog,” he replies smoothly. 

Beraht wrinkles his nose at Dieter. “I don’t even know why I try with you.” Despite the severity of the words, Beraht curls against Dieter and presses a kiss to his shoulder. “Tell me about the dream?”

“You want to kiss a hedgehog too?” He does not even budge when Beraht growls and tries to push him off the bed. Instead, Dieter turns and drags Beraht further into his arms, tucking Beraht’s head into the crook of his collar. “Do you know that fairy tale about true love’s kiss waking someone out of a curse…”

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to Libby for answering my random fact-questions. Thank you to Justyna and Luci for being moral support. And lastly, thank you to Eggie for beta'ing for me <3


End file.
